


Indulge me

by silveryogis



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: M/M, also masato is tied up so there's that, it starts off w sex but just dissolves into bickering im sorry, its porn!!!! its just porn dont think too hard about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 09:25:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2687621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveryogis/pseuds/silveryogis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Masato really just wants to keep his dignity, but at what price? (none, he'll lose it all, he'll shed every inch of his dignity if it just means he can hear Ren whisper)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indulge me

**Author's Note:**

> im so deep in utapri hell bye

“Do you want to come?”

Masato whined, desperate, his hair falling all over his face and his ass so far up in the air he just may as well have been bent completely in half. He felt like he was losing his mind and all remaining senses of dignity that he had, but it was hard to remain dignified when you were on your back with your legs hooked around someone’s neck—he was close to coming, he was so close, and Ren knew this, and it was probably _because_ Ren knew this that he started slowing down, started fucking him so _agonizingly slowly_ that it felt like his cock was just gently massaging the inside of him, which was maddening enough on it’s own. Masato thought that if this went on for much longer, he was going to forget how to breathe soon, or how to think, or how to do anything. 

“Yes,” he grumbled at him, grateful that he was still coherent enough to do so—Ren liked to tease him until he was an absolute mess, until he couldn’t speak, until he was only gasping and heaving and fucking himself down onto Ren’s cock—it was irritating, and the only way he could really avoid it was to make Ren come before he did, but it was admittedly harder when Ren was doing the fucking and he was doing the lying on the bed with his ass up thing. His own cock, hard and swollen, felt heavy against his stomach, and he did wish his hands weren’t tied together. Ren liked it when he came without being touched, so he’d made sure he _couldn’t_ touch himself—he was tied very firmly to one of the bedposts, and it would probably be a little humiliating, if it were with anyone else.

But it was Ren, and Masato let Ren get away with certain things, because he liked him, a little bit.

He gasped as Ren mouthed down his neck, biting at his collarbone, his hair loose and messy and falling around his face. If Masato’s hands weren’t tied, he’d probably pull his fingers through it and pull on it, which was really Ren’s loss, because he liked getting his hair pulled. Masato made a note to point this out to him later, when he wasn’t desperately trying to keep his composure.

“You want it,” Ren said, pointing out the complete obvious, in a low, rumbling tone that made even the complete obvious sound sexy. Masato groaned, panting in sharp, shallow breaths as Ren continued to move in and out of him as slowly as he could, presumably moving _just_ enough so that he could keep himself feeling satisfied while Masato was starving for it. He tried to catch Ren’s eyes, to signal that he could start going faster already, he’d just about had enough—but Ren was busy leaving hot and messy kisses along his jaw, so into it that he wasn’t giving Masato’s facial cues any heed whatsoever. 

“Shut up—ngh, _Jinguji_ ,” Masato told him with some difficulty, wishing that he’d just let him come, already. “Let me—“

“You want it so bad,” Ren purred, completely ignoring his request, moving one hand up to cup his face,pushing some of the sweaty hair out of his eyes. “Look at you, Hijirikawa, always so dignified—look at you, like this.”

Masato was about to scowl and click his tongue against the roof of his mouth, but Ren thrust into him particularly forcefully and he just moaned loudly instead, his entire body shaking. He did. He _did_ want it, he just wished Ren didn’t have to be so smug about it. He didn’t want to be reduced to begging, not just yet, but with the way his knees kept slipping off Ren’s shoulders and with the way he kept trying to speak only to hear himself whimper, he felt like he’d probably be reduced to begging sooner rather than later.

He wasn’t proud of it. 

But he _did_ want it.

Masato panted. “Yeah,” he said gruffly, “look at me, like this. Take a picture. Let me come.”

A brief moment of pause crossed Ren’s face, and Masato knew that was because he was contemplating the fact that not only had he just given him permission for the thing he’d refused him most, but his phone was halfway across the room and that would mean taking his cock out of Masato’s ass, and Masato guessed that Ren wasn’t willing to go that far. Because as much as he was good at keeping his cool, it was obvious by the flush of red on his face that he wanted to come too, that he’d been forcing back an orgasm for minutes, now. 

Ren chided him. “Sarcasm, at a time like this.”

“I’m not—“ Masato clenched his teeth to bite back an _extremely_ shameful noise as Ren used both of his hands to grab his hips and shove him hard onto his cock, “ _Jinguji—“_

 _“_ Do you want me to keep going, like that?” Ren did it again and Masato cried out, his head slamming back against the pillows they’d set up to support his neck—they were all fucked to hell, now, they’d been having mildly rough sex on that bed for what seemed like _forever_ at this point, and Masato was ready to explode. He felt dizzy.

“What the hell do you think I want? Stop messing around.” 

“I think you want me to slow down even _more_ ,” Ren said, murmuring in his ear, leaning so close that Masato’s thighs pressed against his own chest. “I think you want me to slow down so you can feel _every second_ of my hot, sweet—“

“God, stop it with that,” Masato groaned, taking the opportunity to shove his hips up, making Ren gasp.. “Just—“

“What?” Ren purred. “Fuck you?”

There was no way around it, anymore—Masato wanted it too badly, and his own pride wasn’t worth the wait.

So he begged. “Fuck me,” he said, gasping. “ _Fuck_ me, Jinguji.”

“Ah,” Ren raised an eyebrow, and it was so irritating how beautiful he was doing that, how lovely he looked with his hair falling around his face, dark and flushed, his eyes heavy and full of lust. Masato felt like he needed a moment to catch his breath. He needed at least _ten_ of those moments. 

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair how long he’d wanted this, only to be given it again, and again, and again. It wasn’t fair how much Ren indulged him, how much he kissed him, whether it was hard and breathy and full of teeth or soft, just on the corner of his mouth, followed by a whispered “ _I love you, Hijirikawa.”_ For ages Masato had swallowed these feelings because he knew they were dangerous, because they would leave him wanting things only Ren could give him, and he didn’t want that. It felt greedy, it felt selfish, and it felt indulgent. Ren told him that was because he didn’t know how to just enjoy things without turning them into some huge ordeal.

Maybe he was right about that.

“Fuck me,” he whispered again, his voice strangled, wrists yanking at the red necktie that bound them. He narrowed his eyes in challenge, to let Ren know that he hadn’t been completely fucked out of his mind yet, and that he wanted to be, a little bit, and Ren just licked across his lips and bent low over him, pressing at his thighs. 

When Ren spoke again, Masato was pleased to see he was finally gasping and showing signs of losing himself, too. “Harder?” he asked, his eyes glinting, his hips pounding. Masato cried out, he may have even screamed—because yes, he wanted it harder, he wanted to be fucked so hard he wouldn’t be able to sit tomorrow, he wanted to feel nothing but Ren and his hands and his mouth and his cock, he wanted to be absolutely overcome with the feeling of having him _everywhere_. 

And for him, right then, there was nothing _but_ Ren. 

“Fuck— _fuck_ , Masato,” Ren groaned, his mouth open and gasping against Masato’s throat. “God, you drive me so damn crazy, I can’t take it.”

Masato could only moan desperately back at him, his body shaking, the tight feeling in the core of his body starting to swell. Underneath them, the bed creaked violently and the headboard banged against the wall, punctuating every thrust of their hips, every movement they made as they rocked together, in perfect (if not rough as hell) rhythm.

In a rough voice, labored with breath, Ren asked him, “are you gonna—are you gonna come—Masato?”

Masato tipped his head back and answered him only by saying his name, crying _“_ Ren, Ren, _Ren_ ,” and his cries were the only thing loud enough to drown out Ren’s increasingly quickening panting breaths, which were low and deep and hot on his ear. 

Miraculously, Ren came first—he pounded relentlessly into Masato, and Masato watched him as intently as he could, losing his mind that he was—his eyebrows pulled together and his mouth dropped open, and he came with a heavy groan, the sound of it so _good_ , so _erotic_ that Masato couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t take it, he couldn’t take _any more_ , he felt like if he was fucked any harder for any longer without coming he’d _die_. 

With that thought in his mind, and with the sound of Ren’s moaning rolling around in his ear and with the feeling of exploding welling up everywhere within him, he came, his cock bouncing against his stomach as an exhausted Ren continued to fuck into him, just to see him through. He came all over himself, shuddering and choking out a scream and with Ren’s mouth pressed tenderly to his forehead. 

Slowly, he came down from it, and took a moment to breathe. For a few minutes, everything felt sort of vague, light and heavy at the same time, like the room was swirling still, and he felt Ren let his ass back down to the bed and shift himself so he was lying between his legs, his cheek resting against Masato’s chest. 

“Untie me,” was the first thing he said, once he’d regained the ability to speak, but Ren was still laying on him, grinning, like the last thing he had on his mind was untying him. Masato nudged him with his knee.“Hey. Did you hear me?”

“How can I move, at a time like this,” he said loftily, nuzzling his head against Masato’s chest, his golden hair messy and tangled. “When you’re so warm, it makes my heart beat faster.”

Masato kicked him. “Stop talking to me like that,” he said. “I’m not your _bambina_.”

“Why not?” Ren looked up at him. “Don’t you want to be my bambina?”

“Untie me.”

Ren sighed softly, but picked himself off Masato’s chest and undid the knot, allowing Masato to pull his hands back down and rub at his wrists. “Did I do it too tight?”

Masato turned a little red, and looked off to the side. “It’s fine,” he said. “Go clean yourself up.”

Snorting, Ren stood up, and crossed the room bare naked, while Masato looked around for his robe. “Yeah, alright.”

By the time Ren came back to the bed, Masato was pulling his arms through his sleeves, fruitlessly trying to restore some order to his hair. Ren leaned against him, his hair spilling onto Masato’s shoulders, and Masato frowned at him.

“You’re still not dressed,” he commented, looking him over. It wasn’t necessarily a complaint, just an observation, and even if the door wasn’t locked and someone barged in—well, then it’d be Ren’s ass they saw, and not his—and even if that was all he had control over in this world, he’d take it.

“Yeah?” Ren yawned, and pushed his face into Masato’s arm. “Like what you see?”

Masato just scowled. “I’m going to make you sleep outside.”

Yawning once more, Ren only shrugged and slung an arm over Masato’s chest, nuzzling his head lazily against him. “If you say so, babe.”

Masato didn’t say anything, because he had decided long ago to never respond directly to anything Ren said which addressed him with the word _babe_ (this had not deterred him, but it made Masato feel like he was trying), but instead just put his hand on the top of his head and started threading his long fingers through his hair, leaning tiredly against the bed’s headboard. He felt content, satisfied, his body still humming with relief, his pulse still quick from just the effect of Ren being so close to him. 

“You’re exhausting,” he muttered, his eyes closing, aware that he was failing to keep the tone of affection out of his voice. Ren laughed softly.

“You love me,” he said. 

“Maybe.” Masato tipped his chin up. “Maybe, I might.”

“Well, if _that’s_ your idea of a beautiful confession of love, I’ll take it,” Ren said, “but I’d still say it could use work.”

“A beautiful confession of love,” Masato said quietly, putting fingers under Ren’s chin to tip his head up at him, Ren’s bright blue eyes shining at him through a mess of orange hair. “Do you really need such things from me, Jinguji?”

At first, Ren didn’t say anything. He just looked at him for a few moments before a gentle smile broke over his face, his expression relaxing. “Maybe,” he said softly, kissing Masato’s fingers. “Maybe, I might.”

That gave him a moment of pause—Masato looked at Ren, his boyfriend, whom he refused to touch in public in fear that someone would discover what they were doing, Ren, who indulged him with sex and love and affection constantly when they were alone, who loved him as honestly as Ren Jinguji could possibly honestly love anyone—and he sighed.

“Okay,” he said quietly, brushing a knuckle across his cheek. “I love you, then.”

“You love me,” Ren repeated, his voice so soft that Masato could barely hear him. “And I love _you_ , my—“

“Just stop,” Masato hissed, closing his eyes. “Leave it there. You don’t have to call me anything.”

“—Bambina.”

Masato stared at him before flicking him in the nose, and Ren laughed, resting his head once again against his chest. “That’s it,” he said stiffly, “tomorrow, I’m tying _you_ up.”

 

 


End file.
